Her Sweetest Downfall Part 10

She rubbed her hand against her cheek and bit her lip, closing her eyes. Why did her heart have to betray her this way? Why could she not hate Ethan instead? Why not despise him for being the one to usher her into this world?

"Ethan," she said to empty room above. "I'm sorry. I am sorry, though ye will never know that I came here tonight. I'm sorry that my heart got in the way. Sorry for loving ye."

She choked on those last words, then sucked in a resolved breath. This was no good. She needed to move on. But she could not get her feet to move nor her gaze to leave the window. Could not get her gaze to leave that square of hope. So badly she wanted him that she could smell his sweet clove scent on the night air.

"Ophelia?"

The voice came from behind her, arresting the s.p.a.ce in her chest where her heart would have normally sped.

It was him.

She held her breath and spun around. Moonlight lit the sky behind him. He stood unmoving, his gaze covering every inch of her, her emotions swaying slowly from disbelief to desire.

"Ophelia," he said, with more confidence.

He strode over to her, and she threw her arms around him and kissed him deeply. He pressed her back against the wall in the alley, his hands sliding around her waist. He stopped, tilting his forehead against hers, his eyelashes tickling her brow.

"You've come to me," he said. He kissed her again, as though unable to keep his lips from her mouth. Finally he broke away and pulled her a few steps further down the alley to a wooden door and then inside.

Neither of them said a word until after he'd led her down the hall, up the stairs, and into a small, bare room that contained little more than cot, end table, and washbasin. He locked the door and turned to her again, shaking his head. "You shouldn't have come."

She stepped up to him, closing the distance between them, and kissed him with the pa.s.sion she'd been holding back for far too long. She did not know when she would see him again, but she knew she would not give him up, knew she would not sacrifice him.

He put his hands to her shoulders, as if to stop her, but then held her tight and deepened the kiss, backing her up until her calves. .h.i.t the foot of the bed. She cupped her hands around his face, breaking the kiss. His skin was paler than usual, his hair unkempt and the circles beneath his eyes dark.

"Ye are not well," she said.

"I will be fine, my love. I will be fine."

"What of the work ye are supposed to do?"

He shook his head slowly. "It is done. There was no calling for me beyond your delivery to the Maltorim. That is it for me."

"Oh, Ethan," she breathed, frowning. "'ow could ye say such a thing?"

"I have failed even that, if you are here now. What happened?"

He had not failed. No matter what anyone said, they deserved the hope they found in each other's company. "I am with them still! I am sure I can hold my place with them for many years."

He pulled back. "You need to return immediately. You cannot stay here."

"We are together," Ophelia said fiercely. "Don't tell me that is wrong."

He stared at her a long moment, unspeaking, and she feared her chest might cave beneath the silence. "You should go. I shouldn't have allowed this, shouldn't have entertained these ideas."

As he stepped away, Ophelia reached out and grasped his hand to tug him back. "Don't ye dare say that."

He was too close to her now to look at her as a package to be delivered. He could only look into her eyes. He could only face down her soul. Let him try to back away to that, let him try to back away from his own heart.

"Would ye still be standing here if this was not meant to be? Would not the Universe 'ave taken ye from me?"

For a long moment, Ethan stared at her, his pained expression softening. Ophelia knew she was right, and surely he knew as well. The Universe would grant them this one gift in their otherwise dire existence. They would have each other.

Ethan lifted her onto the bed, climbing between her knees as he lay her back and pressed his mouth to hers. His hands, shaky and uncertain, fumbled to undo her dress. He swept her hair away from her neck, leaving it to fan out its inky blackness on his sheets.

He removed her gown, kissed her ribs, grazed his lips over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. As he placed kisses along her jaw and neck, she tilted her head back.

Then, they were falling. Falling through time and s.p.a.ce. But this was different from when Ethan had moved her this way before. This time they moved through s.p.a.ce as though floating through water toward the bottom of a lake.

She kissed the s.p.a.ce behind his ear, traced her lips against his shoulder. His hands explored her body, the fullness of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the contour of her hips, the insides of her thighs. As his fingertips traced over her hips, she closed her eyes. Soon she was lost in touch, in the way his fingertips brushed across her skin, lost in this s.p.a.ce with him where no harm could come to them and no obstacle could prevent them from being together.

Ethan's fingers dipped into her, gently exploring her depths and sending notes of arousal through her body. As Ethan entered her, pressing himself into her body, she gasped. His need swelled with an urgency, his breaths coming heavier. He slowed, stopped, pulled back before trying to press in again, more fully, until his hips pressed flush with her own. For Ophelia, the moment was a surrender, and she knew it was for Ethan as well.

When finally they lie still, Ethan whispered in her ear. "Are you all right?"

"I am," she said.

He grinned widely. "Oh, Ophelia. I could die that I didn't think of this sooner."

The realization swept over her as well. Here, they were safe to be together. When moving through time and s.p.a.ce-when they were here in the inbetween-time did not exist. She could spend days with him and still return to the Maltorim's asylum within hours.

For all of Ethan's ability, she could return to Maltorim minutes before she'd even left, if she so chose.

"I will not live without ye," she said, pulling him closer.

"I will never ask it again," he promised.

To no longer have to deny her feelings sent a rush through Ophelia, and in that moment, Ophelia's heart fluttered in her chest. The heat between them intensified, and even the serpent's mark on her neck burned once again with ferocity. But she didn't care. Not now.

In these moments, she was human again.

Human, and very much in love.

If it were up to Ophelia, she would remain in his s.p.a.ce, suspended for eternity with Ethan, her love, her sweetest downfall.

Rebecca Hamilton writes Paranormal Fantasy, Horror, and Literary Fiction. She lives in Florida with her husband and three kids, along with multiple writing personalities that range from morbid to literary. She enjoys dancing with her kids to television show theme songs and would love the beach if it weren't for the sand. Having a child diagnosed with autism has inspired her to illuminate the world through the eyes of characters who see things differently.

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